


Of Anniversaries and Communism

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-26
Updated: 2006-12-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 13:48:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12508812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: [Fic Exchange '06] A man passing out pamphlets encourages James to join the Communist party.





	Of Anniversaries and Communism

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

**Merry Christmas, Anna!**

 

He knows he shouldn’t have had that last drink. He especially knows it when he missteps outside the pub, loses his balance, and tumbles to the cement in a fit of giggles. Surprisingly, she doesn’t start in on calling him a vast assortment of names and instead joins him in laughing. Apparently she’d had too much to drink too.

“What’re you doing down there?” she asks, once she’d done laughing. On second thought, she doesn’t sound that drunk, disappointingly. 

“Enjoying the view,” he answers, staring at her legs peeking out of her skirt. She has nice legs, _very_ nice legs and if she didn’t have her beautiful red hair, the nice legs would more then make up for the lack of nice hair. 

“Prat,” she mutters, nudging him with the tip of her shoe. “Get up, you randy bastard.” 

“I’m also drunk,” he informs her, slumping against her shoulder once he does get to his feet which is no minor victory.

“Wonderful,” she mutters under her breath, slinging his arm around her shoulders and starting them in the direction of his place. 

“Hey—you! You in the red scarf with the red headed broad!” 

Alright whoever said that is going to die. Lily Evans is never called a broad. “Excuse me?” she says, giving the man a glare. 

The man ignores her in favor of James who is finding it hard to even look straight anymore. “You ever hear of Communism?”

“Is that some kind of Muggle band?” James asks with a frown. 

“Muggle?”

“ _Never_ mind,” Lily says sharply, throwing James a glare out of the corner of her eyes. The last thing they need is for her to attempt to do a memory charm when she’d had a few drinks in her. Her Charms work is good but not that good when it comes to memory ones. “He’s drunk. He says a lot of stupid thing when drunk.” 

James nods helpfully. 

“Right,” the man says looking between the couple curiously. “About what I was saying—“ 

“We’re not interested,” Lily interrupts, coldly. 

“… the hell _is_ it?” James asks, sounding much more interested that Lily would like. The guy is a nutjob; they need to get away from him, not make small talk with him. 

“I’ll explain later,” Lily says, glaring at him and hoping he gets the message which he probably won’t. 

“It’s a political party, kid,” the man answers, doing that ignoring her thing again and doing one hell of a job of getting James to do it with him. 

“I said we’re not—“ 

“A what?” James asks blankly. 

“… Jesus, kid, you really are wasted.” 

Lily rolls her eyes. More like he’s a full blooded wizard who was too stubborn to take Muggle Studies at Hogwarts and is now paying for that dearly while trying to live in Muggle London. She’s pretty sure that he and Sirius would’ve died by now if it weren’t for her. 

“Yeah, he is,” she agrees, patting James on the head sadly. “which is why I need to get him home.” 

The man looks clearly torn between recruiting a new person to his party and the well-being of that person. “Yeah, sure. You take him home, lassy.” 

It’s all Lily can do to keep herself holding James up and not punch this bastard because he’s really annoying her now. “I was planning on it,” she answers, refraining from adding ‘before you started harassing us’ and after adjusting her grip on James, she starts towards his flat again. 

“Lily?” James suddenly remembers he can speak when they’re almost back to his flat. Shame really, she was enjoying the fifteen minutes of silence. Not that she doesn’t love talking to him. She does; just when he’s sober and realizes when he’s starting to cross a line. She has no problem in punching him. It’s just a lot less enjoyable since she started shagging him. 

“Yeah, James?”

“What the _fuck_ is Communism?”

Lily laughs. “It’s a silly Muggle thing that you don’t need to worry about,” she tells him, miraculously opening the front door of his flat building and getting them both through the entryway without dropping him or bruising him—much.

“You’re probably going to forget the word by morning anyway.” 

James lets out a breathless laugh and nods. That doesn’t stop his questions though. “Is it fun, Communism?”

Lily props him against the wall outside his flat door and starts to dig through his pockets to find his key. “If you enjoy dying maybe,” she tells him, hitting his side when her search comes up with nothing. “James… where’s your key?”

James shrugs. “I dunno.” 

“You don’t know,” Lily repeats, pushing her hair back with a sigh. Idiot forgot his key and it’s not like she can Apparate inside due to the anti-Apparition charms she insisted the pair of idiots put on their flat. Right now, their safety isn’t all that important if she can’t even get James inside the damn place. 

“Great,” she mutters, hitting the door with her fist repeatedly. 

“What’re you doing?” James asks, wincing each time her fist comes into contact with the wood. His head’s starting to hurt and that’s just not helping at all.

“Seeing if your idiot roommate is home,” Lily answers, pounding on the door a couple more times. “Sirius! ...Sirius, if you’re in there, open the door right now! ...damnit Sirius!”

“He went to Remus’s,” James comments.

“What makes you say that?”

James lifts a shoulder into a shrug. “If he isn’t home, that’s where he is. It’s where he always is.”

Lily hits the door one last time before turning to look at him. “You could’ve mentioned that before,” she says, testily.

James shrugs again, yawns, and starts to slip down the wall to the floor until he’s a pile of man and clothing. “You sounded like you were having fun yelling at my front door,” he replies.

Lily rolls her eyes and nudging him with the toe of her shoe again. “Get up. We’ll go to my place.”

James shakes his head, yawning into his fist. “Nope. Too comfortable. Not moving.”

“James, you’re on the floor in your hallway.”

James lifts his shoulders—oh, his shrugging is really starting to get annoying—and rests his head against the wall. “Not the first time I’ve spent the night out here.”

“… do I even want to know?”

“If you want to keep loving me and go on thinking Remus is innocent, then no,” James answers with a laugh.

Lily sighs, running her hand over the back of her neck. “I can’t just leave you out here,” she says after a moment.

“Then don’t,” James pats the ground next to him and looks up at her with his infamous puppy dog look. It’s killer that look and she’s going to regret being such a sap for it. But not tonight. Tonight she’ll just go along with it.

Lily sits next to him, resting her head on the wall next to his and gives him a smile when he  
reflexively reaches out to put his arms around her waist. “Hey, James?”

“Yeah, Lily?”

“Know what tonight is?” 

“Course,” James answers, one corner of his mouth lifting towards a smile. “Exactly eight months ago today, you said yes for the first time.” 

How he can remember that but not his key, she’ll never know and to be honest, she doesn’t really care. Let his memory work in its mysterious ways. “Happy Anniversary, James,” she whispers. 

James leans over to kiss her, just a brushing of lips because he still reeks of alcohol—for a moment she really regrets not being anywhere near a bed right now—and whispers back, “Happy Anniversary, Lily.” 


End file.
